As the boy marched onwards through old forest roads and trails, his mind started to wander towards the forest and how his father had taught him to hunt animals with the flintlock musket and traps for small game like rabbits and foxes.
'I'm starting to get a little hungry now, and I think I need to get some rest so I don't get too tired. I guess I have walked around 32 km.
If I continue with my current pace, I might reach Umeå in about a week or so. If I remember correctly what the fisherman said about the closest town, I think they said it was around 213 km, and if a person walks, it should take around a whole week to get there.
I wonder what I could do there, though. It's not like anyone would take me seriously... Of course, I could just threaten them in that case, if they seem weak, that is.' as he was lost in his thoughts, he heard the sound of a horse coming along the trail, which made him stop and turn his head.
'I wonder who could possibly travel in these parts this time of year, a noble? Merchant? No, why would a merchant be on these trails... same with a noble, then it must be a soldier of sorts. But still, these trails are not the main roads.'
While his head was trying to deduce why a horse would be on this trail, the sound of hoofs got even closer until a man's silhouette on a horse was spotted further along the route. As he drew closer, he could see that the man was not a soldier as he had no uniform, but that only confused him more.
The man and horse got closer and closer until he could see that it was probably just a local noble, so he averted his gaze and ignored the man.
But to the boy's dismay, the noble did not do the same as he stopped his horse a few meters away. "Soldier, what are you doing here?" The noble asked. The boy let a silent sigh and tried to come up with a good lie.
So he tried to buy some time. "I am going towards Umea." The boy tried to deepen his voice to sound older than twelve, and he was extremely tall for his age, around 150 cm (The average was 167 cm in Scandinavia/Northern Europe at the time.)
The noble raised an eyebrow at the boyish-looking soldier. The more he looked, the more suspicious he became as the clothes did not seem to fit the soldier that well, a little too big for him, so he continued by asking, "And why is a soldier like you going there?" he asked while he shifted on the saddle which the boy did not miss. He answered, "I was ordered to do some training and drills with the regiment."
The noble looked at the boy and quickly drew a pistol from his hip and aimed it towards the boy who was around 9 m from him.
The boy had anticipated that the noble would probably try something like this, so he had positioned himself close to the treeline by the side of the trail. That way, he could run or take cover if anything went wrong, the boy had watched the man attentively, and the moment he reached for the pistol, he had thrown himself towards the trees while readying the musket in his arms.
Not anticipating the boy to jump sideways into the forest so quickly, the noble fired the pistol but missed the boy by a couple of inches.
And now it was the boy's turn to shoot. He quickly scrambled to get in a fire stance that his father had drilled into him, which took around 2 seconds—a very impressive feat considering all the things he had on him.
When he was ready, the noble had just woken up from his daze to see the 'boyish soldier' aim the musket at him, and before he could react, the trigger was pulled, and a crackling sound echoed throughout the dense forest.
When the horse felt the weight on its back sway, it neighed loudly and stood on its hind legs, which caused the noble to fall backward, and a heavy thud followed his landing as the noble hit the ground—squirming in pain as the bullet had ripped through his big stomach and disappeared somewhere within him.
The boy was utterly shocked by the sequence of events, as his body did all that out of instinct and muscle memory. However, he recovered his senses when the noble screamed in agony. He promptly pushed his knee off the ground, stood up, and walked toward the screaming noble.
The noble tried to move as he saw the 'boyish soldier,' but it only worsened the pain. The boy slung the musket onto his back and unsheathed his sword (more about the sword in author's notes), and pointed it at the noble, and he cleared his throat.
"For what purpose are you here, my 'lord'?" the boy deepened his voice and sneered at the word lord, which irked the noble on the ground. "I was on my way ho-," but before he could finish the sentence, the sword had entered the bullet hole on the man's stomach, and a high-pitched scream forced its way from the man's mouth.
"I want the truth, not your lies." came from the boy's mouth, which had a wide grin. The noble grunted but did not give an answer, so he twisted the sword, and the noble screamed once more.
"speak." the boy had succeeded in swaying this noble to give him an answer. "I...I was... to deliver a letter... to a man...." this piqued the boy's interest. He knew that the man had something of importance but a letter?
'A letter? Why was he hiding something like a letter? oh, how nobles are weird.' the boy thought to himself. "Where is this letter of yours?" the boy asked the noble. The noble began to squirm again, but a simple twist of the boy's wrist made the man scream and stop squirming, which pleased him.